


Coming Attractions

by livrelibre



Category: Psych
Genre: Character of Color, Community: kink_bingo, Consent Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livrelibre/pseuds/livrelibre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No Shawn!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Attractions

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed; concrit welcome. Written for [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) for consent play, in public. Sarmassophobia is the fear of love play, according to the [Phobia List.](http://phobialist.com/#S-)

"No Shawn!"

Gus slapped his hand away and hissed like an angry mongoose. Not that Shawn had ever seen an angry mongoose, but he'd bet that that face Gus was making right now would be just like one. He thought about pointing that out, but realized that would not help him make his case. Looking at that face you never would have guessed that Gus had agreed that so long as he didn’t say “sarmassophobia” Shawn was free to push as hard as he liked. So he just leaned over and whispered hotly in Gus' ear.

"Who doesn't want a handjob in a movie theater? Every guy wants one, that's who." He deliberately wetted up the Ss; he knew Gus' ears were sensitive much, as he tried to deny it.

"Shawn, I am not letting you get me off in public. It's not sanitary. And it’s in public!"

Gus' eyebrows were telegraphing whole dissertations on germs and prudery, but he was shifting around in his seat like his underwear had been starched (which it was, but Gus was used to that). Shawn knew that Little Gus (or Gusito, as he was forbidden to call it) was on board. Score one for Shawn.

"C'mon Gus. Don't be Brian Littrell from the Backstreet Boys. No one will know."

Gus stared straight ahead and huffed in way that said how likely he thought that was.

"No Shawn. N-O. The last time you tried this we got banned from the Riverside Theaters for life."

"How was I supposed to know you'd howl like a dying llama at the end?"

He went for the lap reach, with some subtlety if he did say so himself, and got elbowed in his side for his trouble.

"What?" Shawn whined, earning a few shushes from down front. "I was just going for some popcorn."  
Gus gave him the eye. "You're not slick, Shawn. I know what you were going for."

"So I can't have any popcorn? Can I at least rest my arm now that you punched a hole in my side?"

Gus rolled his eyes, but gave up a prime fraction of arm rest. Shawn waited a few strategic minutes until Gus was reabsorbed in the shit blowing up onscreen. He dropped a hand into Gus' lap. The popcorn went flying.

"Shawn!" Gus hissed and clamped down on Shawn's wandering hand. See, angry mongoose!

"Hey, there buddy, you better lay off the sugar. And you know these things are so small--what do they think we have, twigs for arms? So you know if my hand happens to slip--oh and hey, finger spasms." Gus choked a little but, Shawn noted, didn't move his hand.

"Oh man," he said working it for all he was worth. "I just can't control it." Gus was now noticeably hard and not-so-subtly humping up into Shawn's hand. Bingo. "Man these spasms are intense!"

He managed to pour his Skittles into Gus' lap. "Oh gee, sorry about that! I can't seem to control it. Here let me help you with that."

And in a trice (how long was a trice anyway?), he was off his seat and between Gus' legs in the darkened movie theater, bending down to taste the rainbow. He knew that yoga tape would come in handy some day.

"Yes Shawn. Yes yes YES!"

And that was how they got banned from the Plaza movie theaters for life.


End file.
